


Let's Fly Beyond All the Stars in the Sky

by kibasniper



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Comfort, During Canon, Light Angst, M/M, Mischief, Surprise Kissing, Teasing, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 13:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17746787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibasniper/pseuds/kibasniper
Summary: Ouma comes across Saihara standing alone in the courtyard without his partners flanking him, allowing him the perfect time to strike and see if his interest is worthwhile.





	Let's Fly Beyond All the Stars in the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Written for danganevent's Valentine's Day fic swap over on tumblr.

“Saihaaara-chaaan, isn’t it past your beeedtime?”

Like a song, Ouma’s teasing voice cut through his troubled thoughts. Saihara swallowed down his yelp, but he couldn’t halt the tensing of his shoulders. He quickly pivoted, the tall blades of grass brushing against his ankles.

Ouma rocked back and forth on his heels by the entrance of the school, his arms hiding behind his back. His familiar mischievous grin spread into his cheeks as he took in the startled pink hue painted on Saihara’s cheeks. Humming, Ouma stuffed his hands into his pockets and felt a chuckle rising up his throat as Saihara rubbed his neck.

“What could the great detective be doing out here so late at night?” he asked, skipping towards him. Balancing on one leg, he cocked his head and appeared like a medieval jester under the moonlight. “Searching for clues? Finding suspects? Implicating yourself in a murder because I happened to find you out here?”

“N-no! That’s-that’s not what I’m doing.” Saihara cleared his throat. “I just needed some fresh air.”

Setting his foot down, Ouma yawned and stretched. It was rather late for them to awake. He flicked his gaze towards the moon high in the sky mingling with twinkling stars. The milky white glow of moonlight cast down upon them, stretching into the courtyard and illuminating the few fireflies floating idly by them. He likened the fireflies to ghosts, vanishing the moment he took his eyes away from them. Ouma searched the courtyard of the Gifted Inmates Academy, the only sound being their own quiet breathing and occasional rustling of leaves.

“Well, is that all you’re doing? I’m surprised Monokuma and his brat pack haven’t kicked you back to your room.” Ouma cracked his neck, forcing out another yawn.

“You can go back if you’d like. I’ll be out here for only a few minutes.” Saihara offered a meager smile.

He frowned. Despite his status as a liar, he hated obvious lies. They were fibs that only tried to placate someone else when the liar was suffering. Ouma grabbed his hips and leaned forward, noting Saihara refusing to maintain eye contact.

“Saihara-chan, you’re pretty dumb.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You’re still a terrible, terrible liar. Anyone can see right through your feeble falsehoods, y’know.”

The detective grimaced, which caused the corners of Ouma’s lips to curve into a sneer. He whistled and scanned the sky, watching the stars blink in and out, waiting for Saihara to come out with a new excuse.

“I really did need some air,” he insisted, voice quieter than usual.

Ouma strained his ears to hear him. He watched Saihara dig his fingernails into his palms, making out his white knuckles pressing against his skin. A faraway glaze crossed his eyes as if Saihara was traversing through a memory, completely stunned in place while the world moved around him.

Bristling, Ouma lowered his shoulders. Despite two trials to observe Saihara, he still couldn’t make out whether he was trustworthy or not. He spent most of his time with Harukawa and Momota. His sidekick role became more prominent when partnered with Momota’s exuberance. There was nary a moment when Saihara was by himself, usually paired with either of them or spending time with someone else.

Still, he found Saihara very, very interesting. When Saihara sought him out, that had always made his eyebrows raise. Even though he had tricked and deceived everyone, Saihara still tried to be cordial with him. Either it was a clever front or he genuinely wanted to to get to know him even when lies effortlessly spilled out of his mouth.

Even though he told playful lies just to make the little gray cells of the detective’s mind run wild with theories, Saihara’s intentions seemed to lean on befriending him. It amused Ouma seeing him work so hard, and his earnest nature intrigued him compared to the other students, letting Ouma ponder the fact if it was all a carefully calculated act in the comfortable darkness of his room.

Yet, Saihara’s words, laced with lies, nauseated Ouma. His painfully obvious lies were meant to appease Ouma, and hiding his own turmoil was something he understood. He still couldn’t exactly place his faith in Harukawa after she choked him, and the other students like Iruma and Chabashira made it clear that they refused to heed his advice.

“You know, Saihara-chan,” he began, glancing up at the sky, “I always wondered how many stars were in the sky. There must be loads of them that we just can’t see because they’re out of range.”

“How many stars?” Saihara blinked, the mist gone an instant.

“Yeah, yeah, there’s tons of them, right? Thousands beyond thousands, millions and millions.” He smirked. “I’m an evil leader, so I’m gonna conquer the stars before Momota-chan gets a chance to even see them.”

“H-huh? That’s-” He chuckled. “-that’s kind of impossible.”

“Oh hooo?” He leaned forward, a devilish gleam in his violet eyes as he put his chin on Saihara’s bony shoulder. “But you don’t know anything about my organization. My people have top notch spaceships that can blast outta here in a heartbeat. I’ll conquer every single planet with a super cool finishing blow with my 10,000 minions!” He winked. “If you’re nice to me, then let’s go up there together and become the kings of the universe.”

For a moment, Saihara’s eyes widened. He let the silence settle between them as if pondering the offer. Frowning, Saihara relaxed and shook his head, quickly saying no one could have such shuttles at their disposal.

“Aw, you think I’m lying?” That’s mean! I didn’t realize you were this cruel, Saihara-chan. You’re almost as bad as Iruma-chan.” His eyes welled with tears as he pulled away.

“Ouma-kun, are you trying to make me feel better?”

He blinked, his tears immediately gone. Saihara’s question came as a pleasant shock. He had at least goaded Saihara into admitting he wasn’t feeling well, and while his recent confidence boost had gone noted, Ouma had to admit he was taken aback. He supposed it was Saihara’s detective instinct taking over, the side that desired the truth more than anything. 

He snickered a familiar tune. “Is that what you think or is that what you think I’m thinking?”

Saihara gazed at him, his eyes losing their soft edge. A hardness formed in his stare, making his eyes like smooth pebbles to Ouma. He wondered if he could reach in and pluck them out, the thought causing his smirk to stretch into his cheek.

“Yes. I think that’s what you’re doing,” Saihara said with the same confidence he had shown when pointing out Tojo as the killer.

“Ding ding ding! We have a winner!” Ouma clapped like an exuberant game show host. “I’ll let you have that round, Saihara-chan. You really, really, really are an interesting guy going from all mopey to bold so quickly.”

He still hadn’t drawn out the reason for Saihara’s lie, leaving him stiff despite his compliments. He glanced around, almost expecting a trap to spring upon him when Saihara chuckled. Brushing his hair out of his eyes from the oncoming breeze, Ouma thought the strange ominous wind was suitable.

“It’s stressful here,” Saihara said, and Ouma’s expression dropped into neutrality. He rubbed his forearm and lowered his voice. “Tojo-san and Hoshi-kun, they were here with us two days ago, and now, they aren’t. Even Amami-kun and…” He trailed off, and the same deep gray fog coated his vision.

Akamatsu was a red flag for Saihara, and Ouma closed his eyes. It must have been terrible for him condemning her to death even though she had willingly committed a murder. Ouma supposed they both suspected some foul play was involved, but there wasn’t enough evidence for him to bring out any other hidden lie meant to obfuscate the truth behind dear Amami’s death.

“I think about what I say and do a lot. Am I doing the right thing?” Saihara asked, his question directed to no one but himself.

“Of course you are!” Ouma blinked, hardly surprised by his own exclamation even as Saihara flinched. “If we don’t find the real killer, the truth becomes hidden behind a dirty lie. It’s a lie that even I can’t forgive.”

“A lie that even you can’t forgive?”

He smirked. “Don’t try to get through me just yet, Saihara-chan. I don’t really know you too well to give you my full sympathy, but there are even some lies that are just as unforgivable as a cruel truth.” Rolling his wrist, Ouma raised his palm in the air and abruptly dug his forefinger into Saihara’s collarbone. “Besides, if you’re this hung up on the trials, don’t you get it that we’ll die if we lose?”

Perhaps he had gone too far when he noticed sweat beading on Saihara’s brow. Sighing, Ouma rolled his eyes and withdrew his hand. He wasn’t the most eloquent in comforting others, and noticing Saihara beginning to tense, he grinned.

“I know, I know,” he chirped like a bird, “that you’re someone I’m very interested in, Saihara-chan. Either I’m lying or not about that, but I think…” With a skip and a wink, he clapped his hands on Saihara’s cheeks and pulled him forward, nearly dragging the taller boy down into a dramatic fall. Eyes flaring, he pressed on Saihara’s face and grinned hard enough for his eyes to become a squint. “...that maybe you’re someone who might help me overcome the truth of this game if we join forces, Detective-chan.”

“Join forces? D-detective-chan?” he whispered, a spark of passion burning behind his dilated pupils.

Releasing Saihara, Ouma leaned backwards on his heels. “Weeell, I dunno. You might end up being super duper boring if you keep acting like a sad sack of shit. Also…” He burst into laughter, throwing his arms wide out. “...I’m lying!”

His howling echoed in the otherwise vacant courtyard. It stretched into the heavens, piercing through the dark clouds and causing a tremor to run throughout the sky. Saihara could have sworn he heard distant thunder rumbling and mingling with Ouma’s cackles.

Letting his tittering run dry, he heaved out a sigh. He checked his imaginary wristwatch and gave an exaggerated yawn. “I’m gonna hit the hay. Judging by the black circles under your eyes, you should, too.”

A hint of pink crossed Saihara’s pale cheeks. He rubbed his eyes and yawned as if he caught Ouma’s sleepiness. Smoothing down curled loops of stray hairs, Saihara smiled.

“Oh? What’s that grin for?” He gasped, dramatically pressing his hand over his heart. “Have you finally fallen for me? I’m touched, but I have thousands of suitors waiting for me in my organization. Get in line right now, and I might let you cut in front of a few guys.”

“Oh, that’s not it,” he said with a quiet chuckle, and Ouma huffed, puffing one cheek full of air. Taking a step closer, Saihara offered his hand. “Thanks for your concern, Ouma-kun. I’m feeling better now thanks to you.”

He let his gaze linger on Saihara’s hand. Even in the darkness of the night, he made out pale blue veins travelling up his palm. He made out the chipped edges of his fingernails and worn cuticles, picked away in fits of nervousness.

Ouma chuckled. He clutched Saihara’s hand and squeezed it with enough force to pull him closer. Yelping, Saihara tripped, and Ouma clutched his jacket. With an impish grin, he leaned forward and pecked Saihara’s forehead, hearing the quiet, sharp gasp filling the silence between them.

“Well, stay positive, my beloved Saihara-chan! I’ll see you in the morning!” Ouma declared with a flourished bow. He bounced on his heels and leaped towards the massive double doors.

“S-see you tomorrow,” Saihara called out, his voice warbling and cresting on bashful.

Smirking to himself as he ripped open the doors, Ouma ambled inside and left Saihara to his thoughts. As the doors closed behind him, he pressed his back against it. He listened to the sounds of whistling wind knocking against the cold metal walls and his own heartbeat pounding in his chest. He pressed his hand over his heart as if he could simply halt it. Taking in slow, deep breathes, Ouma gazed at the bleak, grassy hallway before him.

He couldn’t help but feel delighted. Saihara truly was the most interesting of them all. Precariously, Saihara balanced between the two stupid ideals Monokuma forced on the students. Hope and despair, two seemingly white and black concepts, pulled Saihara’s arms and threatened to pull him in half, but he still refused to fall despite the sweet temptations whispered in his ears by too many cloying voices.

“Stay positive, my beloved Saihara-chan, and maybe I will, too,” he whispered to himself, the sounds of Saihara’s footsteps receding into the courtyard, and he closed his eyes, his smirk becoming much more calm.


End file.
